around my elbow, and he bends down to kiss the wound. “Okay, but if it becomes too much, you let me know, okay?”
“I can’t believe you kidnapped me to go to your mom’s,” I say through a strained grin. When he sees that I’m alright, he starts driving again, but laces his fingers through mine.
“I had to get you to go. I didn’t want to leave you at the clubhouse.”
“Why? I would have been fine.”
The blinker sounds as he approaches Loneliest Road. Click. Click. Click.
The wheel turns to the right, and the rough dirt road smooths to flat pavement. “No. It isn’t safe there right now. I feel better knowing you’re with me.”
I don’t say anything. I look out the window and see the silhouettes of the cacti against the last of the horizon. My cheeks hurt from the smile on my face that I’m hiding from him. I’m scared to be this happy.
In my experience, happiness is temporary, and pain is the emotion that lasts forever.
I should know, I have plenty of scars to show for it.
I know I should have asked if she wanted to go to my mom’s, but she’s skittish, and she would have run away from me. I’m not chasing her; not because I don’t want to, I will, but I’ve been running around in circles with her for far too long.
Where I go, she goes from now on.
I pull into my mom’s driveway and throw the truck in park. I stare at her house, a Spanish-style two-bedroom. The front porch light is on, and it looks like no one is home, but she keeps her car in the garage.
“Don’t get out of the truck yet,” I tell her as I step out of the truck and shut the door. I run around the front of the truck, feeling the heat from the engine. She watches me through the windshield, her emeralds are brilliant glittering against the faint glow of the porch light illuminating the darkness. Jo is so damn beautiful, and she has no idea.
I open the door for her, and she slides down against the leather seat until her feet hit the ground. Her hair trickles down her shoulders, the ends dancing in the breeze, and I can smell the lavender shampoo and soot. I grin. She used Poodle’s shampoo. I bet she thought it was Sarah’s.
I take her hand in mine and follow the stone walkway from the driveway to the front door. I don’t bother knocking. She leaves the door unlocked when she knows I’m coming to see her. The oak door is heavy as I push it open. “Mom!” I call out for her. The entryway is extravagant. There’s a chandelier hanging above us from an inverted tray ceiling. The walls are painted a warm beige, decorated in different size canvases. Mom loves art from local artists.
Along the right side of the wall is a narrow coffee table and on top are pictures of me and Mom throughout the years.
“Aw, look at you with braces.” Jo giggles, picking up my eighth grade yearbook photo.
I snatch it from her and lay it facedown. “You aren’t allowed to see me like that.” My face flames with embarrassment, and I immediately knock over my prom picture before she can see it. I had really long hair and still had braces. I didn’t grow into myself until I was around twenty. I was awkward and all arms and legs.
“I thought you were cute.” Jo puckers her lips in a cute pout. “It’s so different to see you as an innocent kid than this big, bad, handsome biker.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her to me, pushing her hair over her shoulder as I admire the high peaks of her cheekbones. “You think I’m handsome?”
She rolls her eyes and wiggles out of my arms.
“Of course she thinks you’re handsome. You’re my son.”
I kiss Jo’s forehead before turning around and wrapping Mom up in a bear hug. Her hair is white from age, but her skin still looks youthful. Her blue eyes shine with happiness as she smiles at me. “Hey, Mom,” I greet her, kissing each cheek. “It’s good to see you.”
She pats her palm against my face then pinches me. “You’re going to have to warm up your food since you’re late. I made your favorite.”
“Really?” I say with excitement and head toward the kitchen, almost forgetting to introduce Jo. I turn around, scratch the back of my head, and chuckle.